


Triptych

by MirrorMystic



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Gen, Grandcypher Co-Captains AU, Picnics, Spoilers through Main Story Ch 63, Tarot Motifs, fluff with plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 10:05:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18990484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirrorMystic/pseuds/MirrorMystic
Summary: Summoner. Soldier. Sage.Three heroes, and three glimpses of those who came before.(Or: a staycation picnic aboard the Grandcypher becomes a stroll down memory lane.)





	Triptych

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back to my Grandcypher Co-Captains AU! Today, a staycation picnic aboard the Grandcypher turns into a stroll down memory lane, as Gran, Djeeta, and Lyria reflect on those who came before them-- and how history may not repeat, but it certainly rhymes. 
> 
> This contains my own lore speculation as to the protagonist's father, his companion the traveling priestess, and my own theory as to Lyria's origins, so this does contain spoilers for the first arc of Granblue Fantasy, "Girl in Blue". If you haven't finished up to chapter 63 of the main quest, please proceed with care! I hope you all enjoy the read! ^^

_~*~_ _  
__  
_**_0\. The Fool_ **  
  
~*~  
  
 _The farmstead was on Zinkenstill island, on the outskirts of Kohazel village-- then again, everything was on “the outskirts” of Kohazel, since the closest thing it had to a town square was just the intersection that happened to have the trading post, the apothecary, and the tiny little one-room library on it._ _  
__  
__The floors creaked. The doors squeaked. When it rained, the roof leaked, and that was going to need patching sooner or later. A crumbling, knee-high stone fence kept passing sheep from wandering into the field, which by now was so overgrown that if you ever brought someone with pollen allergies into it, you’d be culpable for attempted murder._ _  
__  
__It was a fixer-upper to be sure. And it would take skies-know how much time and effort to turn this house into anything resembling a home._ _  
__  
__In other words: it was perfect._ _  
__  
__The shutters on the second floor flew open, and a man stood in the window, his eyes brimming with awe._ _  
__  
__“Look at that!” he beamed. “Beautiful!”_ _  
__  
__He unbuckled his breastplate and gauntlets and laid them to rest on a bare wooden bedframe, and added ‘buy/make a mattress’ to his rapidly growing to-do list. Also on that list: stock the pantry, say hi to the neighbors, maybe find a place to hang up his armor…_ _  
__  
__“Dad? Can we go outside and practice?”_ _  
__  
__He turned, smiling._ _  
__  
__“Already? But we just got here,” he said. “You haven’t even taken in the view. Come here, just look at this.”_ _  
__  
__His daughter waddled up to the window. Her nose barely cleared the sill._ _  
__  
__“...It’s just grass,” she muttered._ _  
__  
__“Sure, there’s grass,” he admitted. He placed a hand on her shoulder, urging her forward._ _  
__  
__“But if you pick your head up…” he grinned, “you can see the sky.”_ _  
__  
__He nudged her chin up, and she followed the line of the road into the horizon. She gazed past their overgrown field, beyond the neighboring farmsteads, beyond the trees--_ _  
__  
__And she saw the sun, rising over the distant mountains._ _  
__  
__“Take a deep breath,” he urged. “Take it all in. Can you feel it, sweetie? Can you smell it in the air? Do you know what that smell is?”_ _  
__  
__“Dust?”_ _  
__  
__“No, kiddo,” her father grinned. “It’s a fresh start. A new beginning.”_  
  
~*~  
  
Djeeta threw open her window, feeling the fresh breeze on her face. She took a deep breath and let out a satisfied sigh, beaming into the brilliant sunlight.  
  
“Oh man, would you look at that sky?” Djeeta grinned. “Take a deep breath. Take it all in…”  
  
“Be careful with that,” Gran chided behind her. “That’s a porthole cover, not the shutters we used to have back home.”  
  
“Whatever, Mom,” Djeeta teased.  
  
Gran fondly rolled his eyes. “Come on…”  
  
They emerged from their cabin, picnic supplies in tow. They stopped briefly by the ship’s galley, where Rosetta handed them a freshly-stocked picnic basket with a smile and a wink, before making their way up to the Grandcypher’s main deck.  
  
Lyria came running the moment she saw them, jumping into Djeeta’s arms with a delighted squeal. Djeeta caught her and spun with her, laughing, before setting Lyria back on the deck so Gran could get his turn.  
  
“Catch me, Gran!” Lyria yelled.  
  
“No, wait, I’m holding stuff!” Gran yelped.  
  
Lyria dove into a hug. Gran caught her, and gave her a peck on the forehead, before looking up at Djeeta with a frantic look in his eyes. Djeeta laughed, reached out, and plucked the picnic basket out of mid-air where Gran had suspended it with wind magic. Lyria beamed up at her two best friends, before taking them both and leading them to their makeshift campsite, hand in hand.  
  
“So are you ready for today, Lyria?” Djeeta asked.  
  
“You know it,” Lyria beamed. “I missed you two so much!”  
  
“You literally saw us yesterday,” Gran teased.  
  
“Well, yeah,” Lyria said, sheepish. “It’s been a whole night…”  
  
Djeeta spread a blanket out on the Grandcypher’s deck, and weighed it down with their picnic basket. Lyria sat down, and pulled the basket closer for a peek inside. Djeeta playfully swatted her hand away, and they giggled, together.  
  
“Sorry we couldn’t go on that beach trip to Auguste like you wanted,” Gran said. He unfurled a beach umbrella and stood it up, rooting it to the deck with an infusion of earth magic. “But, well, when the Queen calls…”  
  
“It’s okay,” Lyria said sweetly. “I understand. And I’m sure she wouldn’t summon us without a good reason. We shouldn’t keep her waiting too long.”  
  
“Still,” Djeeta said. “Hopefully we get to take that beach trip eventually. We were really looking forward to it-- we didn’t have any beaches back home.”  
  
“What did you have?” Lyria wondered.  
  
“Grass,” Gran said flatly. “Trees. And a whole lot of pollen, so skies save you if you were allergic.”  
  
“Don’t forget monsters!” Djeeta cut in.  
  
“Did you still go on picnics back then?” Lyria asked.  
  
Gran and Djeeta glanced at each other, before snickering.  
  
“Yeah, Dee and I weren’t really the picnic type,” Gran grinned.  
  
“I’ll tell you what we did,” Djeeta chimed in. “There was this big hill, right behind our house, and we used to race each other to the top. Last one there gets tossed in a haystack.”  
  
“That, or we’d fight monsters in the woods,” Gran said. “You get a nice workout, the monsters go poof, you grab some orbs for pocket change and then it’s off to the trading post for caramels.”  
  
“ _You_ got caramels,” Djeeta insisted. “I always got strawberries. Or, if I was lucky, Mrs. Hoffman would have made her special raspberry hot sauce.”  
  
“Ugh,” Gran made a face.  
  
“It’s good,” Djeeta protested.  
  
“It’s weird.”  
  
“It’s good!”  
  
“It’s weird! Who wants a sweet hot sauce?”  
  
“It’s good! You could put that stuff on anything. You can put it on toast, you can put it on pancakes, you can just drink it right out of the bottle--”  
  
“Dee, that’s gross. You’re gross.”  
  
“You’re such a baby!” Djeeta teased, and socked Gran in the arm. Lyria giggled beside them, and they turned to see her lying on her stomach, her chin propped up in her hands, gazing at the duo with the utmost adoration.  
  
“You two get along so well,” Lyria mused. “I’m almost jealous.”  
  
Gran and Djeeta exchanged glances before playfully shoving each other away and making gagging noises. Lyria rolled her eyes.  
  
“Not like that!” she teased. “But, I mean… I still can’t remember much from before I met you guys. But you two, you have so much history.”  
  
Gran and Djeeta shared another look.  
  
“...Sorry,” they said, sheepish, making faces when they said it at the same time.  
  
“No, I think it’s great!” Lyria chirped. “Tell me another story about home.”  
  
Djeeta smiled. “Alright, well. There was this one time…”  
  
~*~  
  
 **_I. The Magician_ **  
  
~*~  
  
 _Evening in Zinkenstill. The sun was starting to dip below the mountains, casting the wheat fields a brilliant gold. The summer heat was carried off into the wind, and the daily birdsong from across the trees began transitioning into the chorus of crickets that came every night._ _  
__  
__But Djeeta wasn’t ready to pack it in just yet. No, she was going to use every bit of the fading daylight she could._ _  
__  
__Djeeta grasped her sword in both hands, took a deep breath, and let it out slow. Her opponent loomed across the field, silent, unfazed. He wasn’t going to back down. So neither was she._ _  
__  
__Djeeta swallowed hard, shifting her stance ever so slightly. Then, she broke into a run, her sword held out at her side. She took a running leap, yelled out a battle cry--_ _  
__  
__\--and beheaded a hapless scarecrow for the hundredth time that day._ _  
__  
__“Ha!” Djeeta crowed. “And Dad said I couldn’t hit a hundred before sunset!”_ _  
__  
__She swiped an arm across her forehead, and picked up the scarecrow’s straw-filled head. She reached out to the post, still juddering in place after the vicious smack she’d given it, and steadied it, replacing the canvas bag and broad-brimmed hat on top._ _  
__  
__There was a cry across the clearing, and Djeeta froze. That didn’t sound like a cricket._ _  
__  
__There was another shout. Djeeta grabbed her sword and came running._ _  
__  
__She saw him-- a boy around her age, in a navy-blue robe, bursting out of the trees. His pursuer, a huge daemon-wolf with shining red eyes and wreathed in black smoke, came charging out of the woods behind him._ _  
__  
__The beast pounced, and the boy whirled around, green light flickering across his fingers. A magicked gale shoved the wolf off-target and sent him scrabbling for purchase on the grass, snarling in frustration._ _  
__  
__The boy kept running, constantly glancing over his shoulder to see the beast pounding across the field, drawing closer, closer, ready to pounce--_ _  
__  
__Djeeta pulled the boy behind her and raised her sword._ _  
__  
__Her strike smashed the beast aside, but only for a moment. It lunged once more, and chomped down on Djeeta’s arm._ _  
__  
__Djeeta grit her teeth and punched the pommel of her sword into the beast’s head. It yowled in pain, releasing its grip on Djeeta’s forearm. Vines coiled around the beast’s hindlegs and dragged it away, giving Djeeta a little room to breathe. She looked up and saw the mage, green light shining at his fingertips._ _  
__  
__“Why didn’t you stab it or something?” he cried, frantic._ _  
__  
__“It’s a training sword, it’s only made of wood!” she called back._ _  
__  
__The beast pulled free of its bindings, its eyes shifting from the boy mage to this new, worthier prey._ _  
__  
__“Run!” the boy called._ _  
__  
__Djeeta didn’t run. She took a deep breath, and raised her sword._ _  
__  
__The beast lunged._ _  
__  
__Djeeta cleaved the beast clean in two._ _  
__  
__The beast’s severed halves smacked into the trees behind her with two meaty slaps. They hit the ground, and promptly melted away into tar and black smoke._ _  
__  
__Djeeta blew out a breath, and then stared down, astonished, as a faint white glow faded from her blade._ _  
__  
__“What was that?” the boy wondered._ _  
__  
__Djeeta blinked. “I… I don’t know. Are you okay?”_ _  
__  
__“Yeah,” he nodded. “You?”_ _  
__  
__Djeeta lifted her left arm and studied the bloodied punctures the beast’s fangs had left in her skin. She flexed her fingers, hissing in pain. She sighed, and shook her head._ _  
__  
__“That’s what I get for forgetting my gauntlets at home,” she muttered._ _  
__  
__“Come on,” the boy urged. “I know someone who can fix you up. Until then, maybe I can do a little something for the bleeding.”_ _  
__  
__He drew a dagger from his belt and started cutting long strips from the hem of his robe to wrap around Djeeta’s wounded arm. Djeeta watched him as he worked, making a face._ _  
__  
__“What?” he asked._ _  
__  
__“You have a knife.”_ _  
__  
__“So? It’s for… y’know. Mage stuff.”_ _  
__  
__“Yeah, but you have a knife!” Djeeta pressed. “Why didn’t_ **_you_ ** _stab it or something?”_ _  
__  
__“I was scared, okay?” he groaned. “I forgot.”_ _  
__  
__“You_ **_forgot_ ** _?”_ _  
__  
__Djeeta laughed. The boy shoved her away, but he was smiling in the end. He tied off the wrappings around her arm, and ushered her down the road. Djeeta caught him sneaking glances, and smiled._ _  
__  
__“I’m Djeeta, by the way.”_ _  
__  
__“Oh yeah? Call me Gran.”_  
  
~*~  
  
“Oh, Lyria, you should have seen it,” Djeeta recounted, eager. “Gran was scared stiff, nowhere to go, but then he looks up, and there I am: sword drawn, cape billowing in the breeze--”  
  
“There was no cape,” Gran drawled.  
  
“--and I cut that monster right in half! Even after it bit me in the arm!” Djeeta rolled up her sleeve. “Look! I still have the scars!”  
  
“Oh!” Lyria leaned in, starry-eyed. She squealed. “Oh, that’s so cool…!”  
  
“Aren’t I?” Djeeta grinned. She bumped a playful elbow against Gran’s. “Meanwhile, shy guy over here went running home to his mommy.”  
  
“Excuse me, _we_ went running home to my mom so she could heal your monster bite,” Gran insisted.  
  
“It was cute,” Djeeta teased. “He was so worried. He even tried to hold my hand.”  
  
“So that’s how you two first met, huh?” Lyria asked.  
  
“Yep!” Djeeta chirped. “There’s a first time for everything. That was the first time we met, first time I killed a monster, first time I used light magic, even if it was by accident, the first time Gran tried using healing magic…”  
  
“It didn’t go great,” Gran winced.  
  
“It didn’t,” Djeeta agreed. “And… now that I mention it, that was the first time our parents met, too.”  
  
~*~  
  
 _The Kohazel village apothecary was a squat little building right in the center of town. When you walked in the front door, there was a counter to your left, a kitchen straight ahead, and to your right, half a dozen cots with their feet towards the fireplace and their headboards against the wall._ _  
__  
__At the moment, Djeeta was sitting up in one of those cots, admiring the healer’s handiwork. Save for some scarring and a faint, lingering glow, you’d never have thought she was injured. Despite this, Gran had still pulled up a chair and was sitting beside her, worried. They may or may not have been holding hands._ _  
__  
__“Does it hurt?” Gran wondered._ _  
__  
__“No, no, it feels fine now,” Djeeta replied. “Er… not so much after the first time. But your mom did great.”_ _  
__  
__“Sorry,” Gran said, sheepish. “My healing still needs… work.”_ _  
__  
__“At least you have plenty of time to practice,” Djeeta shrugged. She picked up her training sword, leaning against the side of the bed, and gave it a wave. “We both do.”_ _  
__  
__“Are you kidding? You were great,” Gran said. “Who taught you how to fight like that?”_ _  
__  
__Djeeta beamed with pride. “My father.”_ _  
__  
__Across the cabin, but still close enough that they could both keep an eye on their children, the soldier and the sage were sitting down to tea. Gran’s mother sat at the counter beside a ledger, a quill pen, and before a shelf filled floor to ceiling with jars full of dried herbs. Her guest sat opposite, beside a hanging wooden sign that proudly declared whether the doctor was “out” or “in”._ _  
__  
__“Thank you for treating my daughter, ma’am,” he said. “I’m sorry for all the trouble.”_ _  
__  
__The woman smiled as she sipped her tea. Like her son, she wore a long, wide-sleeved robe in navy blue. Unlike her son, whose robe merely emphasized his awkward, gangly frame, hers gave her an air of dignity and poise._ _  
__  
__“It’s no trouble at all, ser,” she replied._ _  
__  
__He chuckled, rueful. “You don’t need to call me that. I’m no soldier.”_ _  
__  
__“Are you not?” she teased. “Because your posture says otherwise, as does the Imperial-issue longsword you wear on your hip.”_ _  
__  
__He flashed her a smile. “Maybe I stole it.”_ _  
__  
__“Oh, yes?” she tittered, amused. “And is your darling ten-year-old your partner in crime?”_ _  
__  
__“Maybe,” he winked. “She can fit into tight spaces. And she’s got a smile to charm any guard.”_ _  
__  
__“Ah, I see. And here I was hoping you called me ‘ma’am’ as a matter of military habit and not just because I’m starting to get old.”_ _  
__  
__“Oh, please,” he scoffed. “You’re not old ‘til your back starts hurting. Have you got a spell for that?”_ _  
__  
__“I do, actually,” she admitted._ _  
__  
__He smiled. He sipped his tea, glancing over the rim of his cup._ _  
__  
__“So, Sister,” he began. “What’s your story?”_ _  
__  
__“You first.”_ _  
__  
__“I’m… retired,” he sighed. “There’s not much more to it than that. You?”_ _  
__  
__“I’m, ah… freelance,” she mused. “I’m a traveling healer, but ‘pilgrim’ is too strong a word. I decided to offer my services here in Kohazel while I was in town.”_ _  
__  
__“I bet he’d love having a faith healer around for when his herbs just won’t cut it,” he replied._ _  
__  
__“I’m happy to serve,” she said. “But as I said, I’m still just passing through. I don’t expect to stay here long.”_ _  
__  
__“Well, sure,” he shrugged. “But where are you staying right now?”_ _  
__  
__She blinked. “...Here.”_ _  
__  
__“Here?”_ _  
__  
__“Yes, here,” she said, gesturing to the row of patient beds. “So long as there are free beds.”_ _  
__  
__“That’s no way to live, crammed in here with sick people,” he protested._ _  
__  
__“If it’s good enough for my patients, it’s good enough for me,” she replied, firm._ _  
__  
__“If you’re gonna be here awhile, you and your son need some room to grow y’know?” He smiled. “Listen. I’ve got a place. It’s got a great view, plenty of room... It’s a bit of a work-in-progress, sure. But it’s home.”_  
  
~*~  
  
“...and that’s basically how Dee and I wound up living together,” Gran said. “Mom always said that we had to ‘follow the call’, but Zinkenstill had plenty of sick people to heal, so I guess the call didn’t mind us settling down for awhile.”  
  
Beside him, while Djeeta was content to reminisce, Lyria’s infamous appetite had her ransacking their picnic basket with gusto. She poked her up from her rummaging, only for Djeeta to wordlessly offer her a whole baguette. Lyria took a big, messy bite that puffed up her cheeks and made her look like a squirrel. She and Djeeta took one look at each other and instantly dissolved into giggles.  
  
“Are you two okay over there?” Gran mused dryly. He painstakingly cut a slice of apple with his ritual knife and stuck it to a cracker with a gob of soft cheese.  
  
“We’re fine,” Djeeta said, fighting down snickers. “Lyria’s just _really_ enjoying her lunch.”  
  
“Sorry,” Lyria chimed in, sheepish. “I’m listening, I swear!”  
  
Gran fondly rolled his eyes and offered Lyria his cracker-cheese-and-apple stack. Lyria popped it into her mouth and chewed gleefully, giggling when Gran brushed crumbs from her cheek.  
  
“Ugh, Gran,” Djeeta said, crinkling her nose.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Is that the knife you use for casting?”  
  
Gran paused, a slice of apple halfway to his mouth.  
  
“...No…?” he said, wary. He cleared his throat and got up. “I’m gonna go… get another knife. For unrelated reasons.”  
  
“Tell me more,” Lyria said, with her mouth. Actually, she said “mell me mof”, but Djeeta got the gist.  
  
“Gran and I have known each other for eight years, now,” Djeeta said. “That’s almost half our lives. His mom taught me to use magic. My dad taught him to use a sword. Well, he tried to, at least.”  
  
“Are you telling her the haystack story?” Gran called, emerging from the galley.

 

"Maybe," Djeeta teased.  
  
“Which one?”  
  
“The last one!”  
  
“Oh, you mean the one that I won?” Gran asked, smug, returning from the galley with a knife that _hadn’t_ been used to inscribe magic circles, chop spell components, or stab monsters in the past 24 hours.  
  
“You didn’t win,” Djeeta said flatly.  
  
“Yes, I did,” Gran insisted.  
  
“Only because you cheated!” Djeeta fumed.  
  
“I didn’t cheat!” Gran said, adamant. “I won that match fair and square!”  
  
~*~  
  
 _There was a clash of singing metal, and then a blast of magicked wind that sent two swords thudding into the dirt._ _  
__  
__“What was that?” Djeeta demanded._ _  
__  
__“What was what?” Gran wondered._ _  
__  
__“That! You cheated!”_ _  
__  
__“Did not!”_ _  
__  
__“Yes, you did!”_ _  
__  
__“Did not! Look! I disarmed you. Your sword’s right there. I won!”_ _  
__  
__“I disarmed you, too, moron! And_ **_you_ ** _had to do it with magic-- that doesn’t count!”_ _  
__  
__“Oh, come on, Dee, just let me have this one!”_ _  
__  
__“Oh, no,” Djeeta said, her smile turning dangerous. “I won. You lost. And you know what that means… come here!”_ _  
__  
__“Ack! Dee! No no no no no--”_ _  
__  
__Djeeta curled her arms around Gran’s waist, hoisted him off his feet, and flung him right into a haystack with a satisfying whump. She punched the air, crowing out her triumph. An instant later, a magicked gale blasted her into a haystack of her own. She tumbled into the pile with an indignant squawk. She poked her head out, only to find Gran with hay in his hair and the green wisps of wind magic still lingering on his fingers._ _  
__  
__Gran fled across the field, Djeeta hollering as she ran in pursuit. She tackled him from behind and they went tumbling through a pile of fallen leaves, the light of the setting sun gilding them in red and gold._ _  
__  
__Their parents watched from the back porch, as falling leaves glided through the autumn air and the brilliant sun began to dip beneath the mountains._ _  
__  
__“I won’t ask you to do this,” their mother began. “I won’t ask you to leave them.”_ _  
__  
__“Shh,” their father murmured. “Just look at them. Take a deep breath. Take it all in.”_ _  
__  
__She took a deep breath, and let it out slow._ _  
__  
__“For years now, I’ve wandered in search of a calling. A pilgrim without a pilgrimage,” she began. “Now, my calling comes to me in a dream, after I’ve already put down roots, and asks me to leave it all behind. To fulfill some grand destiny beyond these skies.”_ _  
__  
__She turned to him, searching his eyes._ _  
__  
__“I won’t ask you to go,” she said._ _  
__  
__“You don’t have to,” he replied._ _  
__  
__They held each other close, breathless with the weight of this decision bearing down on their chests. Wordlessly, their gazes drift away from each other and out to the fields, where their children laugh and play, oblivious in the fading light._ _  
__  
__“We’ll have to tell them,” she said. “We’ll have to sit down and talk, all four of us.”_ _  
__  
__“They’ll be okay,” he whispered. “They have each other.”_ _  
__  
__She nodded, mute. She laid her head against his shoulder, and together, they stood on the porch and swayed to the tune of the wind whistling through the trees._ _  
__  
__“You gave me a reason to stay,” she murmured into his throat._ _  
__  
__“You gave me a reason to go,” he replied. “One last adventure. My only question is, where are we going?”_ _  
__  
__“Beyond the sky,” she intoned, like a prayer. “To the land of the Astrals, Estalucia.”_  
  
~*~  
  
 **_II. The Priestess_ **  
  
~*~ _  
__  
__“May I?”_ _  
__  
__The stateroom in the palace at Mephorash shone like a jewel in the desert sun. Every surface was gleaming and gilded, but Lyria didn’t spare any of it a second glance. All her attention was on the girl before her, slowly peeling a long black glove down her arm._ _  
__  
__She raised her hand to the light. It was strange-- from a distance, the jointing in the girl’s shoulders could easily be mistaken for the straps of her dress. But her ungloved hand, up close, betrayed her true nature, every joint in her fingers molded like a mannequin. Or a puppet._ _  
__  
__“Wow,” Lyria breathed, amazed. “It’s so… lifelike.”_ _  
__  
__Orchid chuckled. “Maybe that’s because it’s alive.”_ _  
__  
__Lyria squeaked and dropped Orchid’s hand onto their tea table. “I-- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean--”_ _  
__  
__“It’s alright,” Orchid smiled. It was a slight, subtle thing, but it was sincere. “It’s taken me some time to accept, as well.”_ _  
__  
__Orchid pulled her glove back on. Lyria sat, fidgeting. She took a deep breath, and sighed._ _  
__  
__“When I first met you, I was so excited,” Lyria began. “I was excited to have a friend my age. I thought you were like me. You had powers like mine. You even had your own Katalina!”_ _  
__  
__Orchid chuckled. She took Lyria’s hand and squeezed._ _  
__  
__“But…” Lyria’s smile faded. “But I still don’t know what I am. Or who I was. I thought I was like you.”_ _  
__  
__Lyria lifted a hand to her heart, her fingertips brushing against the crystal on her chest._ _  
__  
__“I thought, maybe I was a golem, built to control primals. But we don’t… look the same.”_ _  
__  
__There was a knock at the door, and Orchis let herself in. Orchid acknowledged her with a smile and a nod. Orchis waved to her shadow, and joined her and Lyria at their table, clutching a paper file to her chest._ _  
__  
__“My apologies for the delay,” Orchis said. “Lyria, I did some digging through the old imperial archives. Unfortunately, there are still holdouts of Freesia’s loyalists, so many of our records have been stolen or destroyed. But I did manage to find this.”_ _  
__  
__Orchis handed Lyria the file. Inside was a baffling array of diagrams, runic inscriptions, and procedural instructions in what might as well have been a different language. Just skimming through it gave Lyria a headache._ _  
__  
__“I don’t understand,” Lyria said, crinkling her brow. “What does this mean…?”_ _  
__  
__“The records are incomplete,” Orchis said, “so we can’t know for sure. But after looking it over, Orchid and I… well…”_ _  
__  
__“We have a theory,” Orchid said. “About who you were.”_  
  
~*~  
  
“Lyria? Hey, Lyria, are you awake?”  
  
Lyria took a deep breath, and sighed. She took a moment to remember where she was-- sprawled out on a picnic blanket on the deck of the Grandcypher, her head resting on Djeeta’s stomach and her legs thrown across Gran’s lap. Clouds above dappled the sunlight falling across her face. She folded her hands over her stomach, and gazed up into the sky.  
  
“I’m awake,” Lyria murmured. “Just thinking.”  
  
“About what?” Djeeta asked. She was idly running her fingers through Lyria’s hair, smoothing her hair against her scalp, save for that one stubborn strand that could never stay down.  
  
“Legacy,” Lyria said. “I mean, you two are following in your parents’ footsteps, right? You’re going on a journey, just like they did. But I’m still not completely sure who or what I used to be. I wonder if I have someone like that, someone who came before me. And I wonder if she had someone like you, too.”  
  
“Well, Rosetta did say that my dad traveled with a red dragon and a girl in blue,” Djeeta mused.  
  
“Yeah, but Vyrn’s memories were also sealed,” Gran said. “And Rosetta’s got that ‘a woman keeps her secrets’ thing going on.”  
  
Lyria giggled. “What if one of those secrets is that she made out with your parents?”  
  
The duo groaned and gagged in dismay. Lyria smiled, her good humor returning.  
  
“You know, now that I think about it, I am feeling pretty sleepy,” Lyria said. “That was so much food! We have to remember to thank Rosetta for putting together our picnic basket. There was a whole meat pie in there!”  
  
“Yeah, it would’ve been nice if I _had_ any of it,” Gran teased.  
  
“Sorry…” Lyria mumbled, sheepish.  
  
“You sure can pack it away,” Djeeta said. “Guess you’re just a growing girl.”  
  
“Oh man, could you imagine if Lyria gets a growth spurt and winds up taller than us?” Gran asked.  
  
Djeeta grinned, reaching down and tapping the crystal on Lyria’s chest.  
  
“Or maybe it’s because you’re also feeding all the primals inside you,” Djeeta offered. “Eating for two! Or six. Or… ten, it’s gotta be at least ten by now…”  
  
Lyria giggled. “Maybe even more.”  
  
Gran stretched, before pillowing his hands behind his head. “Well! That was a nice stroll down memory lane. What do you say we call it a day?”  
  
“Sounds good to me,” Djeeta said. She ruffled Lyria’s hair. “It probably won’t be long until someone comes looking for us with some important co-captain business to attend to.”  
  
“We need to do this again!” Lyria chirped.  
  
“We will,” Gran smiled. “Now come on. Let’s get this cleaned up.”  
  
~*~  
  
 _“Why do they call you the Girl in Blue? Your hair’s blue, but you don’t wear blue…”_ _  
__  
__Voices. Wind in her hair. Silk against her skin._ _  
__  
__“Where are you going?”_ _  
__  
__“We’re going on a journey. To Estalucia, land of the Astrals.”_ _  
__  
__Two hands in hers. Little fingers linked in a promise._ _  
__  
__“Incoming!”_ _  
__  
__“How did they find us?”_ _  
__  
__“Everyone hold on!”_ _  
__  
__A crash. A bang. Two hands outstretched._ _  
__  
__Falling._ _  
  
_

_Falling…_ _  
__  
__“My lady! We’ve found it. This crystal is the key…”_ _  
__  
__Flash. Lightning. The testing chamber is so far away, but she still hears the screaming._ _  
__  
__Pain. So much pain._ _  
__  
__“Shut it down! Shut it down!”_ _  
__  
__“This is madness, Prime Minister. The crystal is… resisting. None of us can wield it!”_ _  
__  
__“We can’t. But_ **_she_ ** _can.”_ _  
__  
__Honeyed words. Poison with a smile. Then the lash when patience runs thin._ _  
__  
__“I’ll never help you.”_ _  
__  
__“You_ **_will_ ** _wield this power for us, one way or another…”_ _  
__  
__Tests. Endless tests. Men without faces. Hidden behind helms and clinical stares._ _  
__  
__Alone. So alone._ _  
__  
__“My lady, we have a viable sample. But she will take some time to… grow.”_ _  
__  
__“Testing crystal bond in three, two, one…!”_ _  
__  
__A sharp gasp when the crystal makes contact. For an instant, it feels like…_ _  
__  
__Like being in two places at once._ _  
__  
__“The crystal bond was successful. The subject is showing full compatibility.”_ _  
__  
__They promised they would find you._ _  
__  
__“What should we do with the donor?”_ _  
__  
__You promised you’d see them again._ _  
__  
__“We don’t need her anymore.”_ _  
__  
__You promised._ _  
__  
__“Dispose of her.”_ _  
__  
__You promised._ _  
__  
__“Lyria!”_ _  
__  
__You_ **_promised_ ** _…_ _  
__  
__“Lyria!”_ _  
__  
__~*~_ _  
__  
_“Lyria! Lyria, wake up! Wake up!”  
  
Lyria woke with a start. She felt hands around her wrists, cried out in alarm--  
  
“Lyria, stop! It’s okay! It’s me!”  
  
Lyria stopped short, blinking the phantoms from her eyes. Gran was at the door, his eyes dark with worry, a sphere of magic shining above his cupped palm. Djeeta’s familiar face resolved in that conjured light. Lyria stopped thrashing and slowly met her eyes.  
  
“Djeeta?” Lyria murmured.  
  
“Shh,” Djeeta said. “Take a deep breath. Take it all in.”  
  
Djeeta gently released Lyria’s wrists, and Lyria did as she was told. She stood up, and made for the bowl on her nightstand.  
  
Lyria splashed some water on her face and rubbed at her eyes. Looking down into the bowl, at her own face cast in deep shadow, she followed a stray drop of water as it traced a line down her cheek and dripped onto the crystal on her chest.  
  
There was a ghost lingering on her senses, behind the ambient warmth and energy of the primals within her. A voice. Too faint to be a primal. Too real to be a dream. Too frightening to be a memory.  
  
Lyria sat on the edge of her bed, staring down at her hands. Gran and Djeeta sat beside her, Djeeta curling an arm around her back.  
  
“Are you okay?” Gran asked, his voice soft with concern.  
  
Lyria huffed out a sigh. “...Yeah. I’m fine. I’m fine. Just a bad dream.”  
  
“Alright,” Djeeta gave her shoulder a squeeze. “We’re going to head back.”  
  
“Wait!” Lyria cried. “Can… can you two stay with me tonight?”  
  
Gran and Djeeta exchanged glances.  
  
“Of course,” Gran said.  
  
The duo’s concern for Lyria was stronger than any awkwardness with bed sharing, even if fitting three people in a single twin bed was a bit of an undertaking. In the end, Lyria’s petite form fit between them perfectly-- her head pillowed on Gran’s bicep, and with Djeeta’s arm around her waist. Lyria herself had never felt safer, or more loved. But there was a phantom, deep in her core, who was still afraid. And, perhaps, she always would be.  
  
“Are you two still going to be here when I wake up?” Lyria asked, her voice very small.  
  
“We’re not going anywhere without you,” Djeeta said. “We promise.”  
  
Lyria smiled, content, and closed her eyes. She laid a hand across her heart, against the crystal on her chest. It shimmered, for just a moment, a pale blue star in the dark of the night. And as Lyria drifted off to sleep, safe and sound between her two best friends in all the skies, she swore she could feel something against her palm. It felt like...  
  
A promise.  
  
And a hand against the glass.  
  
~*~


End file.
